


Not Everything is as it Seems

by Starlight_fallen



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst and Feels, Author Projecting onto Aziraphale (Good Omens), Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Touch-Starved Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:34:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27224335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starlight_fallen/pseuds/Starlight_fallen
Summary: “You’ve gone soft.”Those words had stuck with Aziraphale for months after the Apocawasn’t, causing Aziraphale to examine everything he ate. He liked his corporation, he really did, it invited people to feel relaxed around him, but since the day the world didn’t end, those words from Gabriel kept popping up.Aziraphale develops an eating disorder alongside depression after the apocalypse that wasn’t. All but being thrown from Heaven leaves him questioning himself, wondering if Heaven would have taken him more seriously if he’d been better. Better warrior, better in control, better in everything.Can Aziraphale make himself what he’s supposed to be? Or is he cursed to always be Heaven’s unofficial outcast?
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 78





	Not Everything is as it Seems

**Author's Note:**

> Because I’m screaming into the void right now, worrying my adoptive sister into worrying herself silly about me, this story happened. 
> 
> This story has an unspecified eating disorder mentioned, without noted resolution. Also has self depreciation, depression, self hatred.

Aziraphale was used to humans changing their idea of beauty. It was certainly a fleeting thing when it came to humanity deciding it. One year, Aziraphale was considered the pinnacle of beauty, people staring as he’d walk past them. The next, he’d be looked over with appraising eyes and sneered at. It never bothered him when humanity changed their idea of beauty, because those that needed his comfort, found him just what they needed when he was there.

But Gabriel’s words continued to bounce around his mind. Every time he ate, knowing in the back of his mind, he didn’t need it, Gabriel’s voice told him he was a disgrace.

Over the last few months, since the End of the World didn’t happen, Aziraphale found himself eating less and less, hating the tastes of foods he used to adore. But the disgust he saw on his superior’s face, the disgust he’d seen on the other angels’ faces, it made him sick to his stomach every time he ate or indulged. There was many things he’d give up to maintain his heavenly connections, food and books included. There was just one thing in the entirety of his existence though, that he’d never relinquish if he had any say over it.

Food though, that was something he absolutely didn’t have to have or enjoy, so his entire time on Earth, enjoying it and indulging it, now felt completely wrong. He could feel himself sinking into a space where food was the bane of his existence.

Even on the beautiful late November day, where snow clouds looked so tempted to just let the flurries blanket the Earth, he couldn’t stop the self-loathing he’d developed over his love of food. He’d barely left the shop in the last month, trying to avoid temptation. Crowley seemed okay to stay in the shop but he’d started noticing Aziraphale’s reluctance to leave the shop, as well as the fact that he was no longer drinking tea and avoided drinking wine too.

Gabriel’s voice was in his head right this moment as he sat on the bench in St. James Park, staring at the frozen pond, waiting for Crowley to meet him for a walk. He left to appease Crowley and hoped that this trip out today would be enough to assuage Crowley and stop the demon from worrying anymore.

He’d thought about getting a pastry from the bakery on his way to the park and the guilt he felt had made him decide against it. Until he saw a woman and her child behind the shop, cuddled by the vents, trying to stay warm. He went in and bought several pastries to give the woman and child. He slipped a blessing over both of them to help them through the upcoming winter. He’d also given the sweet child his scarf, wrapping it tightly around her neck and small shoulders, placing yet another blessing on the child as he did so. Gabriel could get over that part of him, he was Earth’s Guardian for a reason. It made the guilt triple, knowing he’d indulged in food when he didn’t even need it while millions of people around the world starved.

He hated himself even more.

“Heya, Angel!” Crowley’s voice broke his reverie, ripping him from his mind and he wasn’t quick enough to suppress the full body jerk from his scare.

This wasn’t the first time Crowley surprised Aziraphale this badly since the almost end of the world. The further time brought them away from that horribly wonderful day, the more Aziraphale seemed to pull into himself. Crowley noticed it, knew Aziraphale was having a hard time with losing Heaven. He just didn’t know how deep the rabbit hole went on that issue.

“Oh! Crowley, dear, you really should stop sneaking up on me like that.” Aziraphale admonished, scooting over a bit for Crowley to sprawl on the bench besides him.

“Lost in your head again, Angel?” Crowley asked, hoping the angel took it as casual as Crowley tried to make it sound.

“Just thinking, dear. What have you been up to lately?” Aziraphale deflected, not wanting that conversation to happen.

“Oh you know, little bit of tempting here, little bit of mischief there. Same old, same old.” Crowley said, taking note of the stiffening of Aziraphale’s shoulders.

“Come on, Angel. Let’s walk, it’s too cold to sit here.” Crowley said, standing up again. “Where’s your scarf?,” was asked as Aziraphale joined Crowley in standing up.

Even though angels weren’t supposed to blush, Aziraphale’s face dusted pink, similar to how it had on the wall of Eden so many centuries before. Crowley loved that blush, though he’d never admit it.

“I must have forgotten it at the shop. It’s not that cold, you’re just cold blooded, my dear.” Aziraphale said, turning away and heading down the path. Crowley shook his head.

Not that cold? It’s the end of bloody November! It’s going to snow in a few hours! Crowley thought, knowing Aziraphale was

Crowley jogged slightly to catch up to Aziraphale’s brisk pace. “Woah woah, slow down Angel. What’s got you so wound up?” Crowley asked, pulling Aziraphale to a stop in the middle of the path.

“Nothing. I’m tickety-boo!” Aziraphale huffed, pulling away slightly from Crowley. Crowley let his arm drop before shoving both of his hands into his pockets (by some miracle). He knew pushing Aziraphale would only result in the angel closing off completely and that usually ended in a fight, which Crowley wasn’t willing to pick right now.

“Yeah, okay, if you say so.”

“I do. I’m really fine, Crowley. Don’t worry about it.” Aziraphale reassured him, feeling a flash of guilt bolt through him at snapping so rudely. Crowley didn’t deserve it, it was Aziraphale’s own issue anyway. He really hoped Crowley would just let them walk without stopping at any of the many vendors in the park.

They started walking the familiar path in St. James Park, letting silence fall over them. Crowley saw one of the vendors who sold coffee, cocoas, and teas, and he pulled Aziraphale to a stop.

Aziraphale’s small hopes were shattered. How could he tell Crowley that he didn’t want to eat or drink anymore? Crowley would immediately know something was wrong, at least that something was going on in Aziraphale’s mind that wasn’t normal for him.

“Coffee, black, and a hot cocoa with extra cream.” Crowley said, not noticing the stricken look that came across Aziraphale’s face.

Crowley paid the vendor, turning to face Aziraphale, who just managed to school his features to not show the inner battle he was raging.

“Here ya go, Angel, cocoa always puts you in a better mood.” Crowley said with a smile as he passed the cup to Aziraphale.

Crowley’s eyes narrowed when he noticed the shake of Aziraphale’s hands as he lightly gripped the cup. Almost like he was tempted to drop it but wouldn’t because he couldn’t waste food.

“Oh…ummm I’m not thirsty Crowley.” Aziraphale said, trying to push the cup back into Crowley’s hands.

The frown that appeared on Crowley’s face made Aziraphale feel instantly guilty for making him worry. He tried to backtrack and pull the cup back towards him, hoping Crowley would let it go as he took a sip, instantly feeling like he could gag with self hatred.

“Aziraphale.”

Hearing Crowley call him his name made Aziraphale wince. Crowley never called him by his name, not unless he knew something was being hidden from him. He’d taken to calling Aziraphale ‘Angel’ every time, hoping to remind Aziraphale that no matter what, he was still an angel, and always would be in Crowley’s eyes. Ever since Aziraphale had hidden Agnes’ book, Crowley didn’t hesitate to investigate secrets from Aziraphale. It didn’t bare thinking about the last time he brushed off when Aziraphale was clearly hiding something. Aziraphale didn’t have a poker face, even if he’s the only angel to have ever lied to God’s face and not fall for it.

“What happened?”

Aziraphale felt trapped, unsure how exactly Crowley expected him to put into words how much of a failure he was. Crowley might have been a demon but Aziraphale knew who the real failure was and it certainly wasn’t the demon who kept his corporation in perfect condition. Who didn’t fall to almost every temptation he was presented with. He couldn’t tell Crowley what was wrong with him. He just couldn’t.

“Wr-wrong? Who said anything was wrong, dear?” Aziraphale tried to deflect again. He turned and started walking away from Crowley, hoping he’d catch a hint.

Aziraphale should have known better. Crowley wasn’t about to let a repeat of their last actual fight happen again, not when Aziraphale couldn’t blame Heaven and Hell for watching.

He snapped his fingers.

__________________________

One moment they were in St. James park, the next they were both standing in the backroom of Aziraphale’s bookshop. Aziraphale turned around to fuss at Crowley for the unnecessary relocation, when his words died on his lips.

Crowley was staring at Aziraphale with his glasses off, eyes on full display. He was leaning against the door way to the bookshop, needing it’s support after the huge expenditure of power it took to transport them to the bookshop.

Fear. Anger. Hurt. And something else that Aziraphale refused to name for his own sake was shining in Crowley’s always expressive eyes.

“M-my dear, what’s wrong?” Aziraphale asked. He was good at switching off his emotions to help those around him, it was the one angelic quality he was thankful for.

“What’s wrong with me? No, no, no Aziraphale, you’re not going to deflect to my issues and ignore your issues this time.” Crowley said, incredulously. He didn’t miss the flinch from Aziraphale when he called him by his name again but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Aziraphale was going to talk to him.

“You’ve been holing up in the shop, you’ve stopped drinking alcohol and teas, you’ve turned down every invitation to lunch and dinner for 2 months. What. The. Bloody. Heaven. Is. Going. ON?” Crowley said, clearing trying to hold back his frustration.

Aziraphale averted his eyes as soon as the prickling sensation began, trying desperately to hold back the tears he knew was coming. He didn’t answer Crowley for a long moment.

“Angel, talk to me please.” Crowley implored.

That statement, spoken softly and so full of love that Aziraphale felt his whole body shudder, broke the weak dam that he tried erecting. Full body sobs wracked him, making him tremble even more. He started when he felt arms wrap securely around him.

Crowley pulled Aziraphale into his arms and held him tightly. He started when a keening sound left the angel. How long had it been since Aziraphale been hugged? Crowley’s heart (that he’d deny he had to total discorporation) shattered, making him tighten his arms around Aziraphale. 

“It’s okay, Angel. I’m here for you, our side remember?” Crowley said, running his hands through Aziraphale’s curls as he tucked his head into him. He guided them to the couch, tucking the still sobbing angel into him. He snapped and a fluffy blanket appeared and covered them both.

Aziraphale was clearly touch starved, it was obvious part of him wanted to pull away and another part was begging for Crowley to never let him go. All Crowley could do was tighten his hold on Aziraphale again, hoping he conveyed protection and not constriction.

Aziraphale couldn’t seem to bring himself to stop crying now that he’d started. Crowley just held him even tighter, as though his arms alone could hold the crumbling pieces of Aziraphale together.

After what felt like hours later, Aziraphale’s sobs started slowing, dwindling until he was sniffling against Crowley’s shoulder. The part that begged for touch, begged to be loved won out, Aziraphale refused to move from Crowley’s embrace for as long as Crowley was willing to hug him.

“I am a failure.”

It took 6000 years of controlling himself that stopped Crowley from reacting to that statement. He took a, for once, very needed deep breath to control himself before he spoke.

“Angel, look at me.” Crowley said, trying to keep his voice level.

Aziraphale just buried his head even more into Crowley’s shoulder. Crowley sighed, not forcing Aziraphale to look at him but wanted to be sure he was listening to him. This obviously ran much deeper than Crowley suspected.

“Okay, Angel. I’m not going to make you look at me but I want you to listen to every word I say, fair?” Crowley asked, waiting for Aziraphale to acknowledge his request before continuing. Aziraphale nodded slightly, still not pulling away from Crowley, not that Crowley was willing to let him go anytime soon.

“Whoever or whatever made you believe that clearly doesn’t know you. I don’t give a bloody flying fuck who they think they are, I can take a guess, but they couldn’t be further from the truth than if they’d crossed the universe to get away from it. Angel, you’re so far different from the rest of Heaven, but you’re the best angel She’s ever made. You love without pause, you bring out the very best in everyone you meet, you protect everyone, even when they don’t need it. I’ve seen you risk your own corporation to save people, no other angel would do that. I doubt even She could get any other angel to do that.” Crowley said passionately.

“You don’t understand just how much you mean to the world, to your friends…to me.” Crowley whispered the last part.

Neither said anything else for a long while. It was such a long time that Crowley was pretty sure for the first time since the world didn’t end, Aziraphale had fallen asleep.

“Do you think I’m soft?” Aziraphale whispered. If he hadn’t been pressed into Crowley, Crowley wasn’t sure he’d have even heard him.

Crowley took a moment to think about his answer.

“You are soft, Angel.” Crowley said, feeling Aziraphale stiffen in his arms, “That’s not a bad thing to be, ever. You exude this feeling of safety and security, something that can’t be copied. Being soft doesn’t mean you’re weak, it means you’re a safe haven, something angels are supposed to be. And you’re the only one who has ever achieved that.” Crowley tightened his arms around Aziraphale. “Besides, I love soft, big fan of soft me.”

Aziraphale couldn’t help the small smile that crossed his face.

They sat in silence for a little while longer, Crowley content to wait until Aziraphale felt like talking. After a little while longer, Aziraphale’s soft voice started speaking. He still hadn’t pulled away from Crowley.

“Every time I try to eat or read or do anything that Heaven deemed ridiculous, I hear Gabriel calling me soft, like it’s an insult. I hear him calling me a failure. It reminds me that I failed Heaven and I find myself hating myself, my body, my very existence. I failed in Eden, i failed humanity in Mesopotamia, I couldn’t even protect Yeshua in Golgotha!” Aziraphale cried.

“Oh Angel. You didn’t fail Heaven. They failed you.” Crowley whispered, pushing down his desire to storm Heaven and exact revenge for making Aziraphale feel this way.

Aziraphale sniffed, not believing Crowley’s words at all. Crowley knew that 6000 years of psychological abuse wouldn’t be undone in a night. He vowed then and there he’d run those evil voices from Aziraphale’s mind if it was the last thing he ever accomplished.

They laid on the couch, cuddled together under a blanket for the rest of the night. Aziraphale did fall asleep eventually while Crowley stayed awake guarding his angel.

_______________________________

**Author's Note:**

> Well there you have it. Open ended, so you tell me what you think happens. Does Crowley succeed in helping Aziraphale overcome his insecurities? Does Aziraphale fall deeper into that spiral? 
> 
> October is a difficult month for me, even though it’s one of my favorite months. I miss my family, it’s been almost 2 months since I’ve seen them in person, I’m tired of hurricanes, I’m just tired. But I’m here. I’m alive when so many others aren’t. This was a dedication to someone who will never get to read it, but if I didn’t get these feeling written down...well I’m still here, right?


End file.
